


leave it on the empty shore

by yude_londa



Series: it will come right back to you [2]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Angst, Bodyguard Song Mingi, Childhood Friends, M/M, Modern Royalty, Pining, Prince Jeong Yunho, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:02:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28711716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yude_londa/pseuds/yude_londa
Summary: Just who was he, compared to the hundreds already vying for Yunho’s favor? A mere guard. A Song. His place had been determined the moment he was born and it wasn’t next to the prince, holding his hand. It was behind him, shielding his back.A shadow, when Yunho deserved someone who could reflect his light.In his mind’s ear, Mingi could hear the Queen still, loud and clear even after all the years.‘You're just a Shield, no matter how beloved.'
Relationships: Jeong Yunho/Song Mingi
Series: it will come right back to you [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2104728
Comments: 23
Kudos: 85





	leave it on the empty shore

**Author's Note:**

> So the support for this AU was so great that it inspired me to write another piece for it. Thank you for all the encouraging comments!
> 
> Hope you enjoy reading!

“Help me put on this cape thing,” was Yunho’s demand when Mingi checked in to see if his prince was ready for the party. 

The perfectly unoccupied young stylist standing next to the prince made an aborted motion towards the red fabric Yunho dragged along the floor. No doubt it cost a fortune and couldn’t be cleaned the normal way.

Mingi didn’t sigh out loud but he dearly wished that he could.

“Your highness, there’s hired help for that,” he pointed out patiently.

Yunho made a face at the mirror. Mingi could tell it was directed at him.

The prince didn’t like how certain people touched him, the guard knew. Sometimes people were either too reverent or too greedy. They stifled something in him and he had no patience for that.

He much preferred the rough hugs Mingi imposed on him, Yunho had once said, drunk and cheerful and young. Made him feel normal for once. 

The reason for their drunkenness wasn’t clear to Mingi now. The reason for the sheer giddiness he felt then was very obvious though.

Dismissing the memory before it could constrict him, the Royal guard stepped forward. He lifted his hands so Yunho could deposit the red silk on them. It was surprisingly heavy.

“His highness meant no offense,” he told the visibly nervous stylist. She nodded frantically as if to say that none had been dared to be taken.

“How do I put it on?” he asked her when Yunho made an impatient noise.

Under the stylist’s instruction, Mingi folded the luxurious fabric in two and clipped a golden flower clip on its folded end. 

“Your highness, if you could lift your hands?” asked the young woman, looking like she might just die on the spot if he refused her. Mingi was starting to understand Yunho’s impatience with her. 

When the prince obliged, she exhaled in relief. 

Turned out the art of styling what was basically a huge scarf was a hard one. At least for a Royal guard. Mingi had to wrap and unwrap the thing five times already and he was distinctly aware of how late he was getting for the security team’s meeting. 

On his part Yunho endured the whole ordeal with surprising patience, considering how much he hated standing still. If Mingi didn’t know any better, he’d say that the prince was enjoying himself.

On his sixth attempt, Mingi told the stylist to guide him with her hands, not her words. That actually made Yunho snap.

“I don’t want her touching me,” he gritted out.

“She wouldn’t be touching you, your highness. Just me,” Mingi replied, wondering if Yunho wasn’t feeling well. He should ask the staff for headache pills, just in case. Despite his seemingly boundless energy, Yunho wasn't immune to stress and fatigue.

“But you’re—“

Whatever it was that the prince wanted to say, Mingi didn’t know. Yunho didn’t finish the sentence.

Mingi almost asked Yunho to continue before he remembered himself. He had no right to make demands here. He just had to know if the prince had any further objections.

Yunho was visibly sullen but he didn’t raise any.

Mingi nodded at the stylist and let her hands guide his. She was a small woman and had to tiptoe to arrange Mingi’s hands. Yunho looked like he’d swallowed something bitter. Somehow, the Royal guard didn’t think the poor woman was going to work another day at the palace.

In the end, the fabric rested artfully on Yunho’s right shoulder, circling Yunho’s chest like a shawl and trailing behind his back like a cape. The golden clip of roses fastening the cloth glimmered where it laid on Yunho’s collarbone.

Everything contrasted nicely with the dark maroon suit Yunho was wearing. He looked every inch the Royalty he was. Almost unwillingly, Mingi stared at the figure Yunho cut.

Mingi wondered which photographer at the event he could convince to give up their photos of Yunho. Some Twitter accounts he followed in private would have the pictures ready when their media team releases the photos, he knew. But Mingi didn’t think he could wait that long. The outfit was going to be one of his favorites.

It reminded him of the time he and Yunho played pretend superheroes, having torn down the bed curtains and used them as capes. The way he got his unusually stressed-out friend to laugh breathlessly had been well worth the scolding he got from the room managers for it.

The stylist clapped her hands, breaking Mingi out of his reverie.

“It looks perfect, your highness!” she chirped, part in relief and part in elation. She acted like some great feat had been accomplished.

“Does it?” asked Yunho, looking sideways at Mingi, as if he genuinely didn’t know.

The vanity of the man sometimes. Mingi wanted to rib him.

“Everything his highness wears looks perfect,” he said instead. 

Yunho scoffed in derision but he didn’t look sullen anymore. That was all that mattered.

Mingi bowed at the people present, excusing himself. What was supposed to be a second's check-in took far longer than it should have. The Royal guard silently cursed the sheer size of the palace while he hurried to his destination.

When Mingi entered the meeting room, he was late by a good ten minutes. 

Hongjoong didn’t bother to acknowledge him. The head of security knew, perhaps far better than anyone, that nothing less than a direct order from the prince himself would keep Mingi from his duties.

He just continued to debrief his team on their areas of protection and the shift rotations. Usually, he would have done so the day before. But that increased the chances of leaked information. With so many important people in one place, if anything happened, it would reflect badly on the crown.

It wouldn’t do to displease the Queen, they all knew.

When the meeting was over, Hongjoong asked Mingi to stay behind. Mingi wondered, not for the first time, if there was a polite way to dash from his supervisor.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you pulling three back-to-back shifts. Again,” began Hongjoong, looking distinctly unimpressed. 

It was a look that made grown men reevaluate all their life choices.

It also stopped working on Song Mingi, the most stubborn guard the palace had ever seen, after the first year of their partnership.

“The party has too many unknowns around,” Mingi dared to explain.

“Your fellow guards are not unknowns,” retorted Hongjoong. 

Mingi’s silence was very pointed. 

After the failure that was Moscow’s conference and the Queen’s resulting fury, half of the guards were replaced. With the exception of Choi Jongho, Mingi didn’t trust any of the new faces. Not with the life of his prince.

Hongjoong seemed to realize that too, as he just sighed and looked heavenwards. He muttered something about stubborn mules. Mingi waited.

“I’ll allow it, just this time,” he said at last, as if Mingi didn’t intend to do it again at the earliest inconvenience. 

They both knew, if denied, Mingi would just show up unannounced and have Yunho ditch his current guard for him. Despite everything, the prince valued Mingi far more than any guard should be valued. 

A favor from a Royal wasn’t always the best thing in the security department. Still, it worked in Mingi’s favor when the man inevitably decided that he was needed by his prince, nevermind literally anyone else that was at the station already. 

Hongjoong had long learned to just let Mingi do what he wanted and provide support only if needed. 

It saved everyone involved a lot of trouble. 

Though it did mean that Mingi was running himself ragged and getting injured far more often than he should. His chronic back pain and his dependency on increasingly ineffective medications didn’t help the matters.

“Your loyalty to the prince is going to be the death of you,” said Hongjoong, blunt as a hammer, though not unkind.

“That’s how any good guard goes out,” was Mingi’s reply.

It was practically a Song family motto.

“Yeah, well, I’m not letting any guard under my watch go out in any manner but old age,” snapped Hongjoong, irritated despite knowing better.

He watched Mingi to see if the man had anything to say about that. He didn’t, though he didn’t take back his earlier statement either. The unrepentant asshole.

Hongjoong rubbed his temples for a moment before dismissing his best and most troublesome man.

Mingi, at least, had the grace to leave his leader in a respectful manner. He considered going straight to the main hall and watching the guests trickle in, starting his shift a bit earlier than recommended.

Passing through a hall with open windows and maroon curtains, Mingi was suddenly reminded of the outfit his prince wore for the party. He paused mid-step, then changed his destination, making way for his room in the palace instead.

He had a suit of similar color somewhere. 

Matching outfits with the prince was an overindulgence, he knew. But it was a harmless one and Yunho never complained about being mistaken for his guard at certain events.

In fact, Yunho did the opposite of complaining. If the Queen wasn’t around to supervise, he played up the incidents with almost childish glee, referring to himself as ‘Mister Song’ until the hosts tripped over themselves to apologize for the mishap.

If there was ever harm to recount, it was perhaps how certain ‘Yungi’ enthusiasts proclaimed their outfits to be those of a couple. Nothing but the musings of romantic souls and internet trolls.

It wouldn’t be bad to cheer up his old friend, Mingi thought while he changed suits.

When Mingi joined the party, the main hall was half-full with guests and servers alike. He surveyed the place, noting the guards already at their stations. Choi Jongho was near one of the hall exits leading deeper into the palace.

That made things easier.

Mingi nodded at his fellow guard when Jongho’s eyes snapped to him, almost as if he had sensed that he was being observed. He likely did.

Sharp one, that one. Ridiculously strong too, practically wiping the floor with his opponents during training.

The only reason why Mingi didn’t embarrass himself in front of the new recruits during his turn with Jongho was that he started training as a guard since he was twelve, much earlier than it was strictly legal.

He was sure, with the right guidance, Jongho could surpass him in a few years’ time.

If Mingi ever had to leave his prince, through force or through death, he wanted Jongho to take his place. Hongjoong, his good leader, should really make the necessary arrangements already.

The man kept snapping at him to know his place whenever he brought up the subject though. 

Still, it was nothing compared to the sheer fury Yunho displayed the one time Mingi tried breaching the topic of his possible replacement. The entire palace had been walking on eggshells the following week. Mingi was immensely glad that he refrained from calling his successor by his name then.

Mingi had a distinct feeling that if he did, Choi Jongho would have been kicked out from the Royal Palace, never to be let back in.

While Mingi was lamenting the overprotectiveness of the people closest to him, the guest announcer called out Yunho by his title. The Royal guard snapped to attention almost immediately. 

There was a sudden hush as the prince, in all his timeless beauty, made his way to the center of the hall. Photographs never did Yunho any justice, Mingi knew. Still, watching the spell his prince cast on everyone present, Mingi dearly wished that he could tail him at a closer distance. 

But the event was an open one, meant for charity, and it wouldn’t do well for the crown to express distrust for everyone present, at least not so openly.

“Ah, please, why the sudden silence? You’ll make a prince nervous,” joked Yunho, when the silence lasted too long.

The spell was broken, to be replaced by something natural and all the more charming for it. People immediately started clamoring for Yunho’s attention. Mingi kept a hawk’s eye on anyone that strayed too close to his prince.

There were many that did. Not that Mingi could blame any of them.

Yunho shone, like the sun, like the moon, a being of light and laughter here to grace the mortals with his presence. He commanded the attention of the entire hall with the ease of someone born to do it, dozens of people orbiting him wherever he went.

It was moments like these that knocked the cold reality back home for Mingi. 

Just who was he, compared to the hundreds already vying for Yunho’s favor? A mere guard. A Song. His place had been determined the moment he was born and it wasn’t next to the prince, holding his hand. It was behind him, shielding his back.

A shadow, when Yunho deserved someone who could reflect his light.

In his mind’s ear, Mingi could hear the Queen still, loud and clear even after all the years.

_‘You're just a Shield, no matter how beloved.'_

Nothing in this world was promised to Mingi. He was promised to someone else and he was fine with that. If it was Yunho that used him, he didn’t mind.

If he, perhaps, wondered if Kings could marry their Shields as a teen—

Well, those were nothing but the dreams of someone who didn’t know better.

With the motion of someone who had done it so many times that it became muscle memory, Mingi buried all his useless dreams and hopes and concentrated on the matter at hand.

His prince’s safety. His life’s duty.

Which lucky soul his prince picked to share his company with, that wasn’t Mingi’s business. No matter how much he wanted it to be.

Just when Mingi finished working around the sudden ache in his chest, his comms flared to life, calling for the attention of all the guards. He froze for a split second before forcing himself to act natural. In his peripheral vision, he noted Choi Jongho doing the same.

“Unconfirmed, but we might have extra people in the palace. Uninvited guests,” was Yeosang’s calm and steady voice. It had the effect of straightening out those few still unsettled by the sudden call.

“The cameras were down around the main hall during noon and the recent guest list shows signs of tampering,” elaborated the head technician.

“Choi, Song, Wu, escort the prince to the bunker,” was Hongjoong’s immediate command, quick as a whip.

“The rest, evacuate the guests. Don’t let anyone in, just out,” and with that, the line went dead. No doubt the man was organizing the rest of the palace to prepare for a lockdown and to comb for intruders, trusting Mingi to protect the prince, no matter what.

Without wasting a second, Mingi cut a line straight to Yunho, who had a plethora of people hanging onto his every word, thriving on the attention. Putting himself between the prince and everyone else, Mingi reached out to gently drag him out of his circle of admirers. 

There were protests from the guests and any other time, Mingi might have been smug about having the privilege to steal away Yunho, to pluck him from the stage and hide him behind his back. But this wasn’t the time.

Yunho startled at the sudden touch, turning to Mingi with a baffled smile. The confusion cleared immediately when he got a good look at Mingi’s face though, his smile disappearing.

The Royal guard didn’t know how but his prince read him like an open book, even after the years they spent apart, after Mingi took everything soft and useless about himself and curbed them with discipline.

It made him ridiculously glad in times like these, when each second wasted on an explanation could raise the level of danger exponentially.

Mingi motioned Jongho to take the front when the man neared. He did so with the gait of someone prepared to take on a firing squad. Wu Rong, the other guard, took the rear wordlessly.

They moved swiftly, leaving behind a crowd that was growing louder and more chaotic in its confusion. When they left the main hall, closing the double doors and cutting off all the noise on the other side, Yunho turned to look at Mingi, expectant.

“Just a precaution, your highness. Possible intruders,” he said. 

Though there was almost nothing uncertain about it. Their head technician took care of their security systems with the zeal of a fanatic. There was no way they could have been down just like that.

Hongjoong knew that, Mingi knew that. Whoever it was that was with them in the palace, they were bad news. 

The fact that they picked off the cameras, knowing exactly which ones to shut down and how and when to do it, showed a level of planning that was highly dangerous.

Yunho didn’t look like he believed him but he didn’t argue either, stepping closer and leaning subtly into Mingi’s hands on his back. Asking for comfort without words, the way he did since he was told that no prince should ever ask for it.

And despite the time and the distance between them, he never stopped seeking it from Mingi of all people.

The guard’s hand tightened on the red fabric bunched beneath his fingers, and Mingi suddenly considered doing something very dumb. 

His life’s duty, he reminded himself. Nothing dumb about it.

He stopped, turned to Yunho, and with deft hands, unclipped the gold fastening on the red cloth. To the visible confusion of the three men around him, he took it off and tossed it aside.

“Too recognizable,” he explained. Then he turned to Jongho.

“The leader needs me and Wu back in the main hall. I need you to take the prince to the bunker through the west side,” he told the man.

_I’m trusting you with the most precious thing in my life,_ he didn’t say.

Jongho must have heard him all the same though, as he nodded with solemnity and moved to take his place next to the prince. 

Yunho went begrudgingly, following Jongho with the air of someone who wanted to protest very much but knew better through bitter experience. Before he went through the doors of the corridor that led west, the prince paused and turned back.

“Be safe,” he said, sharp. Commanding. Daring Mingi to disobey.

_‘Yes, hyung,’_ Mingi wanted to say, like he was fourteen and in love and trying to be good for Yunho. He was still in love, he was still trying to be good, but he wasn’t a child anymore.

So he said, “I'll try, your highness,” and watched his prince's face harden.

The best truth Mingi could give and both of them knew it. Yunho accepted it and left with no further words.

Then, in the silence of the corridor that was suddenly too vast and too cold without his prince, Mingi picked up the red cloth he dumped before and wrapped it around himself, just the way he learned. Wu Rong watched it all happen with a face that said he was realizing what was happening and that he wasn’t liking the realization.

“Dim the lights on all the routes to the bunker except the west,” Mingi said to the comms. The west was the longest route from the main hall. It was meant for the lower staff and remained unmarked on all their maps.

“What are you planning, you bastard,” muttered his leader, before doing exactly as told. Mingi would never barter with the safety of his prince, their top priority. To do so was to go against his very being.

His own though? Practically always.

Mingi moved, with the grace expected of a Royal, or at least, someone who grew up with a Royal, hoping desperately to see his prince at the bunker, safe and sound. And if not, to see the faces of the bastards who wanted to harm Yunho and take them down.

Mingi never did get either of his wishes though.

_'Sorry, hyung.'_


End file.
